slow dance and we turn
by Jupiter Queen
Summary: In which a slow dance spins into curiosity. (One-shot. Set during the season four episode "Role Reversal.")


_**Warning**: Contains profanity and some suggestiveness because teenagers, bruh._

_**A/N**: This is just me playing with an idea I got from the season four episode "Role Reversal." (There was a scene where Nikki and Jonesy, after making up in the food court, began slow-dancing with one another. In a later scene, when the two of them made it back to the dance, Nikki's lipstick was all over Jonesy's face, which got me thinking. Of course.)_

_It's really just a lot of kissing and fluff like that._

* * *

><p>His arms hugged her waist. He caressed the small of her back as they swayed together.<p>

She nuzzled her head against his chest, sighing in content. His slow heartbeat sounded in her ears, soothing her. She didn't know how relaxing a slow dance with no music could be until now. Then again, it was never something that crossed her mind in the first place. Even if she refused to admit such a thing, she could spend hours in his arms…

Her breath hitched in her throat. When did he start sliding his hands lower? When exactly did he cup his hands on her butt? Why the _hell_ did she not notice until _now_?

Pulling her head away from his chest, she narrowed her eyes at his smug expression. "You just _have_ to go and ruin a romantic moment."

"What? I can't help it, baby."

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, you _can_, but somehow you choose not to."

"Hey, you got me there." His eyes gleamed with mischief. "Hmm…"

Her brow furrowed. "Oh, no. Why do I have the feeling you got a harebrained idea?"

"That's because I _do_."

She sighed, this time in annoyance. She usually ignored his half-baked ideas. She never allowed herself to entertain them, but, for some reason unknown to her, she gave in to her curiosity—hoping she wouldn't regret it. "Okay, Mission Impossible, what is it?"

"You said I ruined a romantic moment, but there's nothing saying we can't have another one."

So _this_ was his angle. Of course this is what he wanted. She found herself being terrible at leaving his ideas alone tonight, even if this was only the second incident. She crossed her arms. "So, Casanova, what exactly do do have in mind?"

"Anything. Since tonight's dance is a 'girls' choice thing,' it's up to you."

She smiled, pressing herself against him. "That gives me a lot of power then, huh?"

"Mmhmm…" He wrapped his arms around her waist again.

"And you said _anything_, right?"

"Mmhmm… Even though I should be the one choosing what we do since you kinda forgot to ask me to the dance and all."

She playfully hit him, causing him to grin. Catching his gaze, she stood on her tiptoes to reach him. He leaned over and met her halfway, pressing his lips against hers. His tongue flickered against her lips and she opened her mouth slightly, giving into him.

She wanted to jump onto him, allowing her legs to wrap around his waist, but couldn't because she was in a dress. She mentally groaned, finding another reason to hate dresses. She moved backwards as he walked forward, bumping into the table behind them.

He broke the long-lasting kiss, only to lift her onto the table.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much better—now shut up." She licked her lips, pulling him by his purple tie.

She planted kisses on his cheek before moving towards his neck, nibbling at his skin. A purr escaped his lips, prompting her to grin. She French-kissed him as he grabbed her hips. She released her grip on his tie, instead throwing her arms over his shoulders.

She didn't expect that apologizing to him earlier would lead to this, but she was content that it did anyway, that her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

Their kissing slowly stopped, becoming nothing more than her gently biting his bottom lip.

She pulled away from him, running a hand through his hair. "Love you."

"Love you too."

They remained there, enjoying each other's company, until a distant voice cut through the silence: "I know you maggots are around here somewhere."

"Shit, that sounds like Ron," Jonesy whispered, his eyes wide.

"No shit, Sherlock," Nikki whispered back. Quickly hopping off the table, she took Jonesy's hand as soon as she saw the rent-a-cop's flashlight shining through the darkness. "Now's the time to head back to the dance."

Letting her take the lead, he said, "Ladies first, of course."

They sprinted as they heard Ron say, "Nose Ring, Maverick—get back here!"

"Says who? You can't make us!" shouted Jonesy.

Nikki snorted. "Good one, _Maverick_."

Eventually, they got Ron off their trail and slowed their pace. They found themselves standing outside the ice rink and looked at each other.

"So, _Nose Ring_, that make-out session we had was fun."

"Definitely."

He grinned.

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Is it bad that I want more?"

She looked at the ground, considering his question. Seeing they had made up earlier, she didn't mind doing almost anything with him for once. Seeing as they did _quite_ a lot in the food court, maybe she didn't mind pushing another boundary. (Would that make her just as bad as him?) "No. I kind of do, too."

He gently took her hand. "Then maybe you'll come back to my place later?"

"Aren't your parents home?"

"Nope," he said, his lips popping the _p_-sound.

"Then it's a possibility."

"Sweet!"

As they walked inside the rink, she said, "Don't get too happy, Jonesy."


End file.
